Fiction Humor Novels & Stories

safe, content, happy. A wave of laughter erupted as Brian launched into another one of his jokes, his infectious humour washing away any lingering stress. For a blissful while, the world outside ceased to exist, replaced by the joy of my shared silliness. A forgotten warmth spread through me, the simple pleasure of laughing with Brian a rediscovered treasure, thanks to the movie.

He rushed to the bars, slamming his hands against them, “You think this is funny?! Do you think this is some kind of joke, Rhea?!” I wiped the corner of my eye, laughter still spilling from my lips as I tilted my head at him, “Oh, Howard… You have no idea how funny this is.” Fiona let out a sharp laugh behind me, muttering under her breath, “He looks like he got into a fight with a garbage truck and lost.” Howard’s face twisted, rage and humiliation warring in his eyes. “You think you’ve won, don’t you? You think sitting out there while I rot in here makes you better than me?”

His booming voice filled the air with glee, As he entertained us, setting spirits free. "Let's say old time jokes, shall we?" Chants of 'yes' sounded around the room. "Did you hear about the vampire who opened a bakery? He got into a lot of trouble because his cakes were always too bloody." The room erupted with laughter, a joyful sound, As we all shared in the mirth that went around. Stephanie chimed in with a witty remark, Adding to the humor, making the atmosphere spark. "Alpha Darwin, have you heard the one about the talking dog?

The comedian on stage was pretty good, cracking jokes about everything from bad dates to the weird things people do at the grocery store. I glanced over at Sarah, and every time she laughed, it was like a little weight lifted off my chest. Halfway through, the comedian launched into a bit about couples, poking fun at all the little things people do when they’re comfortable around each other. I leaned over to her, smirking. “That’s us,” I whispered. “You know, minus the weird grocery stuff.” “Oh, please,” she shot back, rolling her eyes. “You’re the one who insists on checking every single expiration date like it’s a life-or-death decision.”

"All pale and transparent." I laughed. "Boo hoo," I said, smirking. Her expression twisted in confusion. "What is wrong with you?" Oh, she was actually being mean. I really needed to get a grip on this pack’s humor—it flipped from dark and sarcastic to nonexistent in the blink of an eye. "Oh, sorry, I thought you were joking," I said. "Considering you look like a joke, I didn’t realize I was supposed to take you seriously." Oh, it was on.

Something unhurried and unperformed. "He used to make terrible jokes at breakfast," Dennis said. "Every single morning. The kind that weren't funny at all but he laughed at them so completely that you ended up laughing too." He paused. "He said laughter was the only honest currency. That you could fake money and power and even love. But you couldn't fake a real laugh." I looked at him. "He sounds like someone worth fighting for," I said. "He was," Dennis said quietly. I reached across and took his hand.

Need a stress-relief quest? “No. Just…go hibernate or something.” I dragged my suitcase toward the guest room. It was massive, too big for someone who grew up sharing a room with three cousins and a gecko. The bed was soft, the curtains heavy, the air conditioner too cold. Even the silence here sounded expensive. Still, I had a job to do. Make him laugh. Easier said than done. By morning, I’d rehearsed about ten different ways to do it. Option one: classic humor. Option two: sarcasm. Option three: trip dramatically and hope he’s human enough to chuckle.

Hey Nate, Did you do a weird thing? Let's see. You read comments on an online support group, saw one that caught your interest, couldn't suppress the urge to talk to the girl that wrote said comment, sent her the oddest email she's ever read, and then decided to forget that he ever sent the email in the first place. Is that weird? I'll leave you to answer that for yourself. And yes, I do have a sense of humor. Usually the dark kind, but it's still humor nonetheless, isn't it? But nowadays, very few things make me laugh. So,I don't know what to make of it. Does that still count as having a good sense of humor?

Or maybe that was the only funny thing she heard from him ever since he spoke after they first met. Calming herself from laughing so hard, she tried to crack a joke. "Seriously, what are you? A dog with a twist?" Unfortunately, none of them got a sense of humor, as she thought, that not even one person in the living room bothered to move a muscle and let out a laugh. Rolling her eyes, she sat again with her legs crossed. "Fine, drop your fiction."

He’d slipped on dark glasses and gone quiet. “Why do men have to have such huge vehicles? I think it must be a sexual thing. ‘Look at me. Mine’s bigger and better than yours.’” She heard a choking noise. “Are you all right?” He howled in laughter. “Do you always say exactly what’s on your mind?” “It’s a bad habit of mine.” Rand chuckled again. “Thanks for the laughs. I tend to be the opposite. My family says I’m too serious.” “I’ll be happy to cheer you up anytime you need it. Just call. If I’m at work, I’ll leave a recording of jokes.”